The glow from Afar
by Jacelynn
Summary: This takes the better to dream story furthur; from a nice sweet ending to a drama. Simon has come to New York for Gemma's help, but has some secrets, can Gemma trust him? Kartik/Gemma/Simon/Lucy


This is a continuation of Better to dream, but also the start of a new story that takes the story farther in my mind. Note if you read Better to Dream: this switches from first person writing in that story to third person in this one, enjoy!

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Kartik's fingers stroked Gemma's long red curls as they sprawled down his arm while she rested her head against his solid chest. He told her another story of his adventures back in India with Amar. Gemma's eyes widened in enjoyment of his magnificent storytelling; laughing at all the right parts.

"I don't believe you" she teased as he finished another grand tale.

"Oh my Gemma." He tightened his arm around her waist, "it's hard to believe it's already been one night that we've spent together here in the garden."

Gemma strained her head to peer out over the far hills. A pink glow was edging out the darkness; it mirrored the approaching dawn in the real world too.

"But it can't be morning already," she moaned at him. They had been talking while in one another's arms for hours; hours that felt like only minutes.

"Do you plan on dreaming again tonight?" He let his rough fingers trace along the delicate hem of the dress she had fallen asleep wearing.

"Tonight? You'll be here?"

The possibility of being with Kartik in continuing paradise hadn't occurred to Gemma, she had assumed this to be a one time exception to his curse.

"I told you, it has been arranged for me to come and be with you; free, in your dreams. So…beautiful, beautiful Gemma as long as you want me I shall be here; waiting for you."

Her heart swelled at his words, but they also brought up the one question she hadn't dared ask yet.

"Of course. There will never be a time I won't want you." Every word was the truth.

"Kartik?"

"Hmmmm?"

He was now standing, holding out his hands to help her to her feet.

"You never explained to me exactly how the tribes managed your release from the Winterlands. It seems so impossible."

"Let's not bring it up now."

His eager dismissal of it only added to her curiosity. With a defeated sigh he held of her porcelain hands in his, "There is a substitute for me. During the nighttime the magic is at its weakest and other sacrifices can be made to satisfy the tree of all souls' thirst."

Gemma took in a strangled breath, "Sacrifice?"

How could one word undo a whole night of immeasurable bliss?

"Yes," he replied hesitantly, "the Gorgon."

"What?"

Gemma pulled away from him, covering her mouth with her hands. Images of her loyal friend being trapped within the eternal torment of that tree pained her as much as her ongoing nightmares of Kartik there.

"No Gemma, It's not the same. She only gives a small blood sacrifice; enough to satisfy the tree for my release."

"But you also mentioned Asha and Philon?"

"Yes. It was Asha that discovered the secret exception to the eternal captivity. She found the ritual shown amongst the other drawings in the cave of sighs; a faded secret hidden in the vivid pictures. And Philon keeps Gorgon strong. Each daybreak he provides her with a replenishing tonic, so that she never grows weak from the letting."

Gemma nodded along with the story. The combined efforts of the creatures she had feared at one point amazed her, but the guilt from such selflessness began to mix in too. Kartik sensed it.

"Gemma," he soothingly rubbed his thumb across the top of her hand, "They want to do this. You have done so much for everyone; for everything here. This was their choice."

Kartik glanced up at the quickly brightening hills.

"I'm afraid I really must return now. Morning can be held off no longer."

Gemma followed his gaze to the sky and sighed deeply.

"I suppose."

"I will be waiting for you tonight and every night. And until you are once again in my arms I'll dream that you are."

Gemma grabbed hold of the bottom of his shirt; clutching it in her fists and crashed her mouth onto his. It was nothing like the slow, lingering kisses they had exchanged by the thousands throughout the past night. This one held all her sorrow since he had left her, all the joy she felt at his return, and all the magic the realms allowed her.

"That might just sustain me until tonight."

Kartik smiled as she pulled away. He took a step back from her and then another, until the distance made it difficult for her to even to see his outline. Gemma closed her eyes, her entire body already missing his touch.

She blinked rapidly as the sunlight burned her eyelids. The room looked empty, even with the cheery morning light filling every corner. She groaned at the scattered mess that lay across her table just as she'd left it. Her mind fought desperately to hold onto the dream; every bone inside her prayed that it had been real. Her skin still tingled from his burning touch; surely such happiness could not be imagined.

"Oh if only grandmother could see me now,"

Gemma chuckled as she took in the sight of her sleep rumpled dress. Last night she had fallen asleep before she was able to remove the dress and exchange it for the thin cotton of her nightgown. The thought of sitting with Kartik in the garden made her blush; in anticipation more than modesty.

She rubbed her head where hairpins had dug into her scalp throughout the night. While in the realms her hair was loose and free, but in reality it was still held mercilessly in place with hairpins. She cursed the horrid metal clips as she pulled them out of her red tangles and tossed them on top of her bureau. The disheveled reflection in the mirror atop the bureau begged for a warm bath.

Tap tap tap

Sudden light knocking at her door caused her to jump; startled. At first she just ignored it, assuming it was someone knocking on one of the other doors in the boarding house. But when it repeated a moment later she knew it was at her door. The owner of the apartments, as the Americans called them, Mrs. McCorkran, was a very disagreeable woman, rarely inclined to allow visitors in before noon. Gemma knew that if she had permitted someone in at this early hour it must be someone she knew personally or else someone who paid her quite handsomely.

Gemma ran her hands over her clothing, trying pointlessly to smooth out the wrinkles. She splashed some cool water from the basin onto her still flushed face. The red glow that Kartik caused seemed determined to stay and she accepted it, like an honorable badge.

She walked to the door, unlatched the brass lock and peeked out.

"Simon!"

Her entire body froze. Of anyone she would not expect to find on her doorstep, Simon Middleton was surely at the top of the list.

"Miss Doyle," he removed his silk hat to her, "May I come in?"

His formality seemed rigid and uncomfortable.

"Yes, of course."

She stuttered, still finding it extraordinarily difficult to persuade her legs to function. He walked past her as she closed the door behind him.

"I'm aware that it must be a shock to you having me to show up here."

He admitted in a slightly urgent tone. His manner was nothing like the charming man she remembered in England. His warm, confident air was completely replaced by a certain anxiousness.

"Yes, I must admit, it is. Neither grandmother nor Tom mentioned anything of your coming to New York."

"No one knew," he replied shortly.

"Well, I certainly appreciate your calling on me. It can get rather lonely here at times."

Gemma said with a far from lonely tone; warm images of her night in the realms still played through her head.

"Please sit," she motioned to a chair behind him, "I'll just put on some tea –"

"Miss Doyle, Gemma, No."

He interrupted her, not even looking towards the offered chair. He took a step closer to where she stood unmoving near the kitchen.

"I apologize. I didn't mean to sound rude. However, my visit is rather urgent, "he fiddled with the hat in his hands while he spoke, "I need your help. I need you to come back with me."

"What! Why?" she asked.

The desperate look in his eyes was beginning to frighten her; there was not even a hint of the free spirited socialite she once knew.

"It's Lucy, she's sick. She…we need you to help her."

Gemma expected the pang of jealousy to hit her at the mention of his new bride's name, but it never did. Kartik's touch filled her completely; no man could ever command her soul the way that dark angel could.

"She's ill?"

Simon nodded, "Yes, very, and we need you."

Gemma laughed at him. Surely Simon had gone mad; she wasn't a doctor. There was no help she could possibly offer.

"You journeyed all the way here to ask for a writer's help in healing your sick wife?"

Her tone showed the obvious doubt she had in his sanity.

His appearance was nothing out of the ordinary; neatly trimmed brown hair, clean shaven face, finely pressed suit; the height of male fashion, she was sure. But his words were not fitting to his appearance.

"Gemma, please. Don't you understand? We need your _special_ help."

His voice lowered an octave as he spoke to her from underneath heavy eyelids.

Panic began to pound through Gemma at the realization of his words. Surely Simon didn't know about the magic; that couldn't possibly be what he was asking. Gemma lowered herself into the stable chair next to her; allowing it to support her where her legs failed.

"You know?" She whispered so low; she hoped he wouldn't be able to hear her.

"Yes"

Her stomach felt as if she'd just been dropped from the top of a tall building.

"For how long?"

"Gemma," he tried to approach her, avoiding the question, but she held up a shaking hand to stop him.

"If you truly want my help then I want the truth Simon Middleton," she had never spoken so boldly before, but she couldn't control it, "How long have you known?"

Simon drew in a heavy breath and answered, "Forever. Since as far back as I can remember. I knew about your mother and the Rakshana's close following of her and her daughter."

In her mind Gemma remembered Simon's father mentioning of their meeting having been arranged.

Everything, she thought, Simon was part of all of it; Kartik's torture, deceiving Tom, the order to kill her; all of it!

"How could you!" She spat at him.

"Gemma please, it's all I knew. I grew up following my father's footsteps in the Rakshana. I only knew the realms to be evil; nothing good came from them."

He hung his head, "I know differently now. I see you and have heard what you have done. You must forgive me."

Gemma didn't soften towards him much. She had learnt that trust was a luxury; certainly not to be wasted on the Rakshana.

"I am begging for your help though. Lucy is quite ill. The doctor's are baffled as to her condition. Her ailments change as fast as they appear. We need you."

Simon looked up; locking Gemma's gaze with his own pleading brown eyes. It was difficult to ignore.

"Fine" she resigned, "but I will not leave until tomorrow."

She needed to discuss this with Kartik; surely he would have more insight into it all.

"As you wish," the familiar charming smile that was uniquely Simon reappeared as he stood up and walked to the door. He turned the handle and looked back to her, "and thank you Gemma."

He said before leaving.


End file.
